


Your Regularly Scheduled Morning Commute

by predilection



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pining Keith (Voltron), Public Transportation, pure unmitigated fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:39:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/predilection/pseuds/predilection
Summary: Keith would hate his early morning commute a lot more if it wasn't for a stranger who smiles at him every time he gets on the bus.(A college AU about Keith, Shiro, and public transportation.)





	Your Regularly Scheduled Morning Commute

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I just wanted to write a fluffy AU where Keith and Shiro get to be happy and nothing hurts.

The worst thing about Keith's early morning class on Tuesdays is his commute. He has to travel during rush hour, and though there's an express bus at this time of day that will take him downtown and directly onto campus, it's crowed and claustrophobic, and only runs once an hour.

Which is why he's cursing the second he gets on the bus to find it packed like sardines. It's especially packed at the front with no one seemingly willing to move to the back where it's less busy and where he at least has a chance of finding a seat. He's pushing his way past people and dodging backpacks at chest level when the bus driver hits the breaks suddenly. He stumbles forward and straight into someone sitting in an aisle seat by the back doors.

This someone catches him with one hand and helps him steady himself. Keith straightens and adjusts the bag over his shoulder, but before he can manage a quick apology, his mouth goes dry.

The man who's still holding onto his bicep is attractive. He has a shock of white hair that rests against his forehead, and he's wearing jeans and a dark red sweater that looks warm and perfect for the chilly weather they've been having. He's missing his right arm, the sweater sleeve of that arm folded up at the shoulder and pinned in place.

Though Keith notices all of this, what catches his attention the most is the expression on the man's face -- his eyes are bright and kind, and instead of being upset at Keith for falling on top of him, he's offering Keith a small smile that makes something embarrassingly warm lodge itself in Keith's chest.

"S-sorry," Keith finally stutters out, ducking his head and looking away.

"It's fine. This bus is always a little hectic," the man says, and as Keith rights himself and steps up the two-step elevation that demarcates the back of the bus, the man flashes him another friendly smile.

Keith manages to find a seat squished between someone in a suit and someone sleeping with their head resting against the backpack in their lap. He takes out his tablet to review his notes for class, but he doesn't read more than a few words before he's uncharacteristically distracted. He finds himself staring at nothing in particular and wondering how, despite taking the same bus at this same early hour for weeks, he somehow hasn't ever noticed the man with the white hair before.

*

Keith forgets about the man until he's getting on the same express bus the following Tuesday morning and sees him sitting by the back doors again but at a window seat this time.

The man doesn't notice Keith, even as Keith squeezes by the people standing near him, but Keith takes note of the man. He's wearing another sweater -- a navy one that looks soft -- and Keith catches himself wondering what the fabric feels like before hurrying along.

Keith doesn't date, not really. He doesn't even find himself interested in other people for the most part, so he isn't used to having thoughts like this -- thoughts that make a mostly unfamiliar hum of excitement thrum through him. He's not sure he likes having these thoughts at all, especially about a stranger he only noticed because they have a nice smile. 

*

The next Tuesday, the man is wearing a dark green sweater and sitting at the front of the elevation at the back of the bus. He catches Keith glancing at him as Keith presses through the crowd and immediately smiles.

Keith nods back at him, and when he finds a seat two rows back from the man, he fails to pretend he's not staring at the back of the man's head for the rest of his commute.

*

Keith sees the man on Tuesday mornings for the next three weeks, and every week, without fail, the man spots Keith as he gets on the bus and smiles at him. 

By the end of the third week, Keith musters up the courage to smile back. The man's eyes light up at that -- wide and pleased -- and Keith feels his face heat.

The man always gets off the bus two stops before Keith, and always from the back exit. This week, for the first time, he looks over at Keith before he leaves, catching his eye and waving. 

*

On the Tuesday morning the week before midterms, one of his housemates, Pidge, drags herself out of bed and joins him on his commute, wanting to get in some extra studying time at the library.

This wouldn't be an issue, but Pidge is observant and sharp and she doesn't miss the way Keith's attention focuses on the man the moment they get on the bus, or the way Keith smiles back at him.

"Friend of yours?" she asks.

"No," Keith grumbles back at her, and when they're standing at the back of the bus, she spends an entire minute studying his face, her eyebrow raised and wearing the beginnings of a smirk.

"Shut up," he says.

She lets go of the poll she's holding to lift her hands in surrender, definitely smirking now. "I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"True," she admits. 

She thankfully doesn't say anything else. Keith hopes that this is the last they'll speak of it, but when the man pointedly looks over at Keith as he exits the bus and waves at him -- finding Keith easily even through the crowd -- Keith finds Pidge staring at him again, that knowing smirk back on her face.

*

Pidge joins him the following Tuesday morning as well.

Keith can't bring himself to care about what her commentary might be this time. First, because he's too busy worrying about his midterm in forty minutes, but more so because the second he spots the man, sitting in the front row of the elevated seats again, he feels momentarily frozen by just how attractive he is. It's not like Keith hasn't noticed this before, but there's something about the way this man smiling at him so easily when he's already so stressed, that brings the full force of his attractiveness to Keith's attention again. 

Not to mention that it's starting to get colder and this week the man is wearing a perfectly tailored black pea coat, as well as a matching wool newsboy cap and a cream-colored scarf. The scarf makes his brown eyes look particularly soft and that makes Keith feel something soft too.

Maybe it's because of that, that for once, he doesn't feel as nervous or awkward when he smiles back at him.

Pidge still smirks at him later after they find two seats next to each other, but her expression is less playful and less teasing than it was the week before.

"You should ask him out," she says quietly, pulling out her laptop and setting it on her thighs.

Keith snorts and shakes his head. "I don't even know him," he reminds her. He told her about their interactions after she assumed they were friends or classmates instead of strangers.

"But you could get to know him," she says reasonably.

He could but...

"He's probably not even interested," he says.

She raises an eyebrow in his direction. "I don't see him smiling at anyone else on this bus like he smiles at you," she points out. "At least consider it."

*

Keith doesn't tend to think much about the man when he's not on the same bus as him on Tuesday mornings, but for the next week, Keith thinks about the man more than he ever has.

He pops into his mind while he's in class, while he's studying, and while he's watching a movie on Friday night with his housemates. Keith also spends what feels like an excessive amount of time wondering what it would be like to sit next to the man for once and maybe even talk to him. It's a scary thought, but it's also an exciting one, and instead of dreading waking up early on Tuesday morning, Keith looks forward to it.

*

Pidge is with him again the following week even though midterms are over, this time to get a head start on one of her independent study projects.

Keith thinks that maybe he'll try actually saying hello to the man, but this week, there's a beautiful woman with long white hair sitting next to him, the two of them deep in conversation when he and Pidge get on the bus. The man turns away from her to smile at Keith as he passes by, but it's clear that she has his attention. The man doesn't look away from her for more than a second, and in the next moment, he's laughing at something she's saying, folding in on himself and leaning into her shoulder. 

Keith swallows something prickly and uncomfortable. It isn't until he and Pidge are seated that he realizes that what he's feeling is not primarily jealousy but disappointment. Disappointment that he let himself want for the first time in a long, long time, only to learn that he never had a chance at all.

The woman with the long white hair gets off two stops later, but not before pressing a kiss to the man's cheek. He waves at her as she leaves -- the same way he waves at Keith -- and Keith doesn't realize how hard he's frowning until Pidge places a comforting hand on his knee.

The man waves to Keith when he exits the bus, the same way he always does, and Keith forces himself to meet his eyes and wave back.

*

Keith tries to not let it get to him, but it does anyway. At the oddest times over the next few days, like when he's in the shower or making dinner, he thinks about how happy the man looked, and how beautiful his laugh sounded. He's actively dreading the following Tuesday, up until he actually gets on the bus.

Pidge isn't with him this week, and the man is alone too, sitting by himself next to a window, an empty seat available next to him for the first time. When Keith passes it by, the man smiles at Keith in that kind way he always has like nothing has changed.

To him, nothing has.

Keith smiles back, and it's not as hard as he feared it would be to return this small gesture of kindness and connection, even if it won't ever amount to anything more.

*

As November turns into December, they stick to the same routine. They smile at each other when Keith gets on the bus and they wave to each other when the man gets off.

Keith sees the beautiful white-haired woman once more, again sitting next to the man, so close their shoulders brush. Keith tries not to watch the way they playfully jostle each other, obviously enjoying each other's company.

This time, the woman doesn't get off the bus first. The two of them hug before they reach the man's stop, and just before the man steps off the bus, he looks for Keith and offers him his customary wave.

Keith waves back automatically.

He glances at the woman after the man exits, only to find that she has her head turned to look back at him. Her eyes run up and down his body, assessing, and Keith quickly looks away from her and folds his arms over his chest, not wanting to be judged and not wanting to invite any unnecessary questions.

*

The week after, the seat next to the man is vacant for the second time.

Keith debates taking it, just to be a little closer to and maybe to finally say hello to this man, who despite everything, has made waking up at the crack of dawn on Tuesdays less dreadful and much warmer. He debates it right up until he's walking by the man and suddenly loses his nerve, choosing instead the comfort and familiarity of the very back of the bus.

*

Keith is well aware his semester is coming to an end. The following week will be his last early class on a Tuesday. It'll be the last time he'll ever have a reason to take this early morning express bus downtown and, quite likely, the last time he'll ever see the man. He tries not to think about it, but it saddens him in a way he doesn't expect given that, for all intents and purposes, the man is just a stranger. 

He doesn't know what he's going to do until he's already on the bus. It's as Keith's trying to make his way to the back of the bus that the person sitting next to the man stands up to leave, giving Keith the perfect opportunity. His last opportunity.

Keith takes a deep breath, and instead of passing the man by, he takes the empty seat.

"Hey," the man says softly, smiling at him.

"Hi," Keith says back and feels a rush of pride that finally, at the end, he at least managed a proper hello.

He's not sure what to say next though, awkwardness and nerves creeping back in on him. He looks down at his own lap, and then at the man's, where his newsboy cap is resting on his thighs.

"Are you a student at Garrison?" the man asks and Keith raises his head and nods. Since he takes this bus route, he figures that's easy enough to guess.

"What are you taking?" 

"Astrophysics," Keith answers.

"Huh. Have you taken any classes with Iverson?"

Keith takes a moment to blink at him in surprise. "You know Iverson?"

The man laughs, but it's not unkind. "I had him two years in a row for 301 and 401."

"I'm in 401 now," Keith says, startled by this unexpected development. 

"Yeah? How was your midterm?"

The man listens to him attentively as Keith tells him about Iverson's brutal midterm exam, and even though he knows this is never going anywhere, Keith's heart starts beating a little faster.

"A friend of mine is TAing one of his third year sections," the man says. "She told me he gave out new midterms this year that were somehow worse than his old ones."

As Keith groans, the man asks, "The semester's almost done, right?"

"Finals start next week," Keith says.

The man grins. "Then you're a week away from passing 401 and escaping Iverson once and for all." 

All too soon, the bus announces the man's stop. "This is me," he says and stands. Keith slides his legs to the side of the seat to let him pass.

The man takes a step towards the doors, but seems to hesitate, his hand tightening around the poll he grabbed for support. "I'm Shiro," he offers, looking back over his shoulder.

"Keith," Keith says as the bus comes to a stop.

"Good luck on your finals, Keith," he says warmly, before turning away and exiting through the back doors.

Keith watches him go, his heart still beating loudly, and though the moment is bittersweet, he's thankful that his last meeting with the man -- with Shiro -- went so well.

It's later as Keith is standing in preparation for exiting at his own stop that he notices a familiar newsboy cap resting on the floor in front of him. Keith bends down and picks it up, hastily shoving it in the pocket of his winter jacket before he misses his stop.

*

Keith doesn't get a chance to look at the cap until after his class.

It's wool and expensive looking, and on the inside of it, someone has carefully embroidered the initials "T.S." into the lining with cream-colored thread. It's obviously well-loved, and there's some signs of wear and tear along the edges of it. 

It's also something he clearly needs to return to its owner.

If he's honest with himself, Keith's okay with having an excuse to see Shiro again, so on the Tuesday of the next week, he catches the early express bus downtown instead of staying home to study for his final that afternoon.

Shiro, however, is nowhere to be seen. He can easily tell because today the bus is emptier than it's been all semester. It's only then that Keith remembers that it's nearing the end of December and many people have already started their vacations.

He sighs and gets off at the next stop so he can catch a bus going in the opposite direction to go home.

*

His housemates declare Friday night a movie night to celebrate the completion of their finals and being one semester away from graduating. It's just them -- Keith, Pidge, Lance, and Hunk -- and like all their movie nights, the evening is mostly spent yelling at the T.V. while they eat junk food.

Pidge and Keith end up drawing the short straws and have to go out in the cold to pick up their pizzas and drinks. It's when they're at the pizza place and Keith pulls out his wallet that Shiro's hat falls out of his pocket and on to the floor.

Pidge sees it, but she waits until they're walking home, their arms filled with pizza boxes and bags of pop bottles, to ask him, "Whose hat was that?"

He was expecting this question. She knows that the most he wears in the winter are earmuffs and that the wool cap is nothing like anything he owns. "It's Shiro's."

"Shiro?"

He sighs. "Remember the man from the bus? He left it behind last week."

Pidge perks up at that, her back straightening as she turns to look at him. "You know his name?"

Keith tells her about the last time he saw Shiro -- about how he learned that Shiro was in Iverson's classes previously and how it sounded like he has friends who are still part of their program. Not for the first time, he marvels at the odds of that. Then he tells her how he already tried once to return the cap with no luck.

Pidge is quiet afterwards, but Keith knows she's thinking. When they reach the front steps of the house they're renting, she says, "That's the most you've said about anyone in the entire time I've know you." Her tone is teasing, but there's also something serious about it -- something kind. "You really like him, don't you?"

He does. Even now, he still does.

Some part of what he's feeling must show on his face because she says, "I'm sorry." Though before he opens the front door, she offers playfully, "You know, I can try to find him online if you want to stalk his Facebook."

The idea doesn't sit right with him, but he shakes his head, amused despite himself. "Thanks though."

*

Come January, Keith's course schedule features no classes earlier than ten in the morning. His first class on Tuesday isn't until the afternoon. Still, the week classes start, he forces himself to get up when it's still dark outside on Tuesday to get on a familiar bus in the hopes of seeing a familiar face.

Shiro isn't on the bus.

He tries again the next week, and the one after that too, but there's no sign of Shiro's pea coat or his ever-present smile.

It's after he tries once more in February and fails that he finally admits defeat.

He holds onto the hat though, keeping it in his pocket just in case, even though his chances of running into Shiro elsewhere are slim.

*

At the beginning of March, just before his Wednesday evening class, Keith spots a distinct head of long white hair coming out of the physics building where his class is being held. He stops in his tracks, taking a moment to watch as the woman he saw with Shiro pauses just outside the front doors to fiddle with her phone. 

Keith slips his hand inside his jacket pocket and closes his fingers around the soft wool of the hat he's still carrying around. As much as he wants to be the one to return it to Shiro, he knows that what's important is Shiro getting it back.

He takes a deep breath to steel himself and walks up to the woman. The second she looks up from her phone and spots him, to his surprise, she smiles.

"Hello," she says. "You're Shiro's friend from the bus."

He nods, though he's not sure what to say to that since they're not really friends. Instead, he pulls the hat from his pocket and offers it to her. "He left this on the bus back in December. I've been trying to get it back to him, but I haven't seen him since."

She doesn't take it from him right away. Instead, she tilts her head and stares at him, and what he feels now reminds him of the discomfort he felt under her scrutiny the first time. 

"I'll make sure it's returned to him," she says finally, and when she takes the hat from him, she handles it reverently, like he was right and it is something important.

"Thank you," he says, and turns towards the doors.

"Wait." 

Keith stills.

"Do you like him?" she asks, catching Keith completely off guard.

"What?"

"Do you like Shiro?" she asks again, more softly this time, like that makes the question any better.

"He's your boyfriend," Keith points out, frowning.

The woman's eyes go wide and then she laughs. "Shiro? My goodness, no. We're friends. And he's not seeing anyone at the moment."

Keith lets out a deep breath he didn't even know he was holding. "...oh."

The woman grins. "You _do_ like him."

"I..." Keith starts, still trying to process the incredibly important information he's just learned.

The woman hums like she's pleased, but she says, "Unfortunately, I need to run."

Keith swallows. He wants to ask her for Shiro's number, but he's only just met her and that seems sudden and like a bad idea. 

"Are you heading to class?" she asks.

"Yeah."

"Here in the physics building?"

"I have 402 with Montgomery," he says.

"Oh, I TAed that class last year," she says and just as Keith belatedly remembers Shiro saying something about his friend being a TA, she gives him a little wave and walks away, her head bent over her phone.

Keith stands there, frozen, his thoughts racing until they settle on one thing in particular and then it's like his mind is on loop, repeating nothing but the words: _Shiro's single._

It takes him less than a minute to realize he's being ridiculous, and then he's running in the direction the woman went, hoping that if he can't ask for Shiro's number, he can at least pass along his own, but the woman is long gone. 

Keith mentally kicks himself. He didn't even ask for her name.

*

Keith's evening class is two hours long, and it's dark by the time it's over and he's walking to the bus depot on campus. The downtown express bus doesn't run at this hour, so Keith has to take two different buses to get home.

Keith could care less about his commute right now. He's still upset at himself for missing his chance to connect with Shiro again, and for not even asking the woman for her name so he could at least find her again. He's coming up with different ways to track her down, including finding someone who took Iverson's third level course last semester or actually enabling Pidge to use her creepy social media stalking powers, when he walks straight into someone.

"Sorry," he says, distracted, and looks up from the ground. "I didn't mean to--"

Keith doesn't finish that sentence.

Standing in front of him is Shiro, wearing the same pea coat and scarf, and the same warm smile.

He's also wearing the hat Keith carried around in his pocket for months.

"Hi," Shiro says.

Keith opens his mouth but can't even begin to form words. 

"You know, this hat was a gift from my grandmother when I graduated high school. She embroidered my initials into it herself, and I was upset when I lost it," Shiro explains like they're having a conversation and like Keith isn't just standing there with eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. "Allura just returned it to me. She says you had it. Thank you for holding on to it and making sure I was reunited with it."

Keith finally finds his voice, but it sounds distant to his own ears. "You're welcome." 

"It probably would've been easier for you to return it if I didn't take a new job on the west end. Then maybe I'd still see you on the bus."

"I don't take that bus anymore either," Keith says and feels awkward.

"Oh? Then I'm glad you ran into Allura and she told me where to find you."

Keith's heart rate picks up to the point where he can hear blood roaring in his ears. "But I only saw her a little while ago."

"I didn't want to miss you," Shiro says. He's honest and earnest, and it fully sinks in that Keith didn't just happen to bump into him. He rushed here specifically because he wanted to see Keith again.

Keith's not about to let this chance pass him by. Not after everything that's happened. He wets his lips, nervous, and asks, "Can I... can I give you my number?" 

He's pretty sure he knows Shiro's answer, but he still holds his breath until Shiro pulls his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it and hands it to him. 

"Sure, but I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go out for coffee?"

Keith almost drops the phone. "Yes," he answers too quickly, and usually he'd be embarrassed by his eagerness, but for some reason, he's not. He carefully types in his number and name and gives Shiro his phone back.

"I know a place just off of campus," Shiro says, slipping the phone back into his coat. The smile he's still wearing grows wider. "They're open late." 

Keith can't believe that this is happening to him -- that Shiro came all this way for him -- that Shiro wants to spend time with him. It makes his whole body feel wonderfully warm. "Lead the way," he says and smiles back at him.

As they walk in the opposite direction of the bus depot, Keith's bus passes them by, but Keith barely notices, content to be enjoying Shiro's company and the promise of enjoying it more in the future without any public transportation involved.


End file.
